


I'll see you when I fall asleep

by pittoo (orphan_account)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Age Progression, Fluff, Kinda?, M/M, idk this is lame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-13
Updated: 2014-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-17 05:32:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2298332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/pittoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>kagehinakage month prompt 'sleeping habits'<br/>ngl i'll use any excuse to write wordy bs about how my favs sleep so here it is</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'll see you when I fall asleep

**Author's Note:**

> im three days late to the party pretend this is or is not an issue
> 
> this is so ramble-y and lame it's more like a really long headcanon written in prose i'm dumb

Looking back, they suppose it all started at overnight training camps.

Hinata, a living furnace by nature, clung to the cold side of pillows like they could offer salvation, like they were saving his life; sheets were always tossed far, far away by the time he’d fallen asleep, and even in sleep he unconsciously sought out relief from the perpetual heat. Kageyama was the opposite; his circulation wasn’t the best when he wasn’t actively running around to get it up, which had the unfortunate side effect of leaving him freezing cold most of the time – the blankets Hinata tossed away always ended up on his own futon at some point.

It didn’t help, they suppose, that they were both fidgets at heart. They were, after all, opposites; the sun and the shadow, light and dark, hot and cold. So they were drawn together, heavy with sleep, despite whatever disagreements, conflict or other aggression they had displayed throughout the day, and gave each other relief, settling into a comfortable sleep.

There were, of course, multiple embarrassing photographs of them together (courtesy of Sugawara, in their first year, but Nishinoya took over in the second, Yamaguchi in the third – there was always _someone_ ) Outside of various shots of them practically cuddling - Kageyama on his back, Hinata with his arms loosely around the taller boy, legs awkwardly tangled together – there were instances of Hinata lying with the side of his face again an expanse of Kageyama’s stomach where his shirt had ridden up, his feet somewhere in Tsukishima’s side, Kageyama’s hand threaded into Hinata’s hair.

They didn’t do it on purpose; it was just something that happened, something that soothed the usually sweating – or freezing – boys into deep sleep, something comforting. They were always embarrassed about it in the morning, of course, furiously denying they had ever slept like that, but deep inside them, somewhere, they were never unhappy with the arrangement.

And it was nice to sleep in comfort.

 

.

 

They never had a sleepover, not really, until they started dating.

Other than a few overnight stays out of convenience, where one or the other had slept alone on a futon and little words were exchanged, they didn’t have a real sleepover until near the end of their second year, a month or two after they had gotten together. It was at Hinata’s; his mother had made them promise that they would sleep in the living room, where they could be seen, and not holed up in Hinata’s room (Hinata had grumbled a bit, but Kageyama was secretly thankful – they’d only so much as pecked each other a handful of times and he still got _unbearably_ sweaty when doing anything in even semi-public)

Hinata had moved the family’s coffee table to the side to make room on the floor for a mess of blankets, pillows, stuffed animals and whatever else warm he could find, the futons lost underneath the nest. In comfort, they cuddled on the couch to watch Hinata’s favourite movie until both were too tired to focus on the screen, too tired to keep their eyes even half-open, and they settled into their makeshift bed, curling into blankets, Hinata grabbing onto a stuffed Pokémon toy and cuddling it to his chest, Kageyama grabbing onto Hinata in turn and doing the same.

Wordlessly, the pair shuffled and shifted until they reached a final, comfortable position; Hinata had his back pressed up against Kageyama, his legs tangling back into the taller boy’s, enough for him to be annoying whenever he wiggled his toes, making Kageyama kick him in protest. Kageyama’s chin rested just above Hinata’s head, the fiery hair tickling his jaw – not entirely unpleasant, but weird and new – and one stretched over Hinata’s side, the other resting underneath him. Hinata’s own face pressed into his stuffed toy, hiding his grin and his blush, his hands balled into fists as he clutched onto the plush material; he’d wake up to find he had drooled all over it, and Kageyama would wake up with numb limbs, but for the moment, while they fell asleep to the sound of each other’s heartbeats and breathing, they were perfect.

Even if the world came crashing down, in that instant, they were perfect.

 

.

 

Despite being situated in different halls entirely, Kageyama found his tiny boyfriend curled up on his dorm’s bed more often than not.

He’d given Hinata a key not even a month after they had settled in - he had the larger dorm, after all, Hinata’s was far too small to comfortably house them both for an evening – and he swore the shorter boy must have let himself in every day of the week (though he wasn’t complaining) for whatever reason.

They hardly ever fell asleep together in that first year of university; typically Hinata would come over to watch a movie, or maybe play a game, sometimes to work on assignments in relative silence on Kageyama’s floor. Sometimes, though, after they had saved up enough between them to afford to go and get something to eat together, or to go see a movie, Kageyama would drag Hinata back to his room, giddy and breathless and very much in love, and together they would collapse onto the bed and revel in the love they shared, still new and blossoming and curious, falling asleep half-naked and exhausted but happy.

Kageyama would wake up with Hinata’s face pressed up against his chest, hands bunched up between them and clenched into small, loose fists. He would wake up to bright sunlight catching into that curly, bright mess, onto pale skin, making Hinata light up the room just as much, if not more, than the sun itself did. No matter what the time, nor the obligation, Kageyama would ignore his clock, ignore the time and the world around them in favour of watching his boyfriend sleep, peaceful and calm, for just a few more minutes, an hour or two, however long it took.

The hands at Hinata’s back would draw him closer, and Kageyama would close his eyes again, wishing that someday, someday, he could have this moment, hold it close to his heart, repeat it day in and day out, for the rest of his life. Hinata, though neither voiced it, when he was yet to fall asleep and Kageyama had already dozed off and was lying on his front on his boyfriend's chest, thought precisely the same, eyes trained on the rise and fall of Kageyama's chest, listening to the steady heartbeat he had come to memorise.

If nothing else they wished for a love that could last forever.

 

.

 

It wasn’t until they finally moved in together that they realised it wouldn’t be that easy.

Spending every moment at home together, sharing everything they had, proved more difficult than they had at first assumed. They bickered more often than not – over miniscule things, typically, though the fire in both their hearts and the pride they both carried within blew the arguments into bigger proportions. From these, they could recover, and despite it all they could still, at the end of the day, climb into bed together; no matter how much the distance between them at the start of the night, they would always find their way back into each other’s arms, always find it in their hearts to keep on loving, forgiving.

They didn’t have a serious argument, not earth-shattering, not time-stopping, until they had been sharing their small apartment for about five months; stressed from classes and part-time jobs and lack of sleep; after forty-five (forty-six, maybe forty-seven) minutes of shouting and stomping and yelling Hinata gave up, broke down, and threatened, promised, to leave.

 Shaking with anger and tears and unsaid words Hinata made to sleep on their couch that night, facing away from the room, face pressed into couch-cushions and back to Kageyama. It was so uncomfortable, so warm, so _angry_ but he couldn’t bring himself to care when his insides were boiling; silence had enveloped the apartment, at least, telling him that he’d won, that Kageyama had given up; after ten, fifteen minutes, he’d assumed the other man had just gone to bed already. _Fine_ , he thought, bitterly, burying his face further into a cushion, ready to sleep through his rage, wake up early, pack his things and go. He had his plan; he knew what to expect.

He had not expected, after twenty minutes had passed, a pair of shaking, tense arms to slip under his knees and back; in the darkness he couldn’t make out any expressions and in the silence all he heard was slow, forced, even breathing. He wanted to protest - at least, in his mind, but his body seemed to have a different agenda, instead moving to clutch onto the one carrying him, to press his face into a familiar shoulder. Breath in, breath out.

Once again Kageyama and Hinata found themselves curled up together, laying on top of the sheets. Hinata wanted to open his mouth, say something, anything, but before any words could leave him, before he could protest, those arms were pulling him into Kageyama’s chest, and he realised the taller was shaking, realised he was _crying_.

“Please don’t leave me, Shou. I love you, I love you.”

And then Hinata was crying, too, reaching up, cupping his lover’s face and kissing it, once, twice, three times, whispering shakily against his jaw, never, never, I never was, I love you, I love you.

They fell asleep without sheets and damp from each other’s tears, but the cracks they formed healed like they always did; Hinata burned their breakfast in the morning, Kageyama used up all the hot water again and between the two of them they broke the microwave, but for once they didn’t fight but laughed, and instead collapsed back on _their_ bed, too tired, promised to fix everything the next day, and fell asleep again, at home in each other’s arms.

 

 .

 

After years of climbing together, fighting their way to the top of the world, they did the one thing no one had ever expected of them; they settled down.

Hinata clicked his tongue, carefully picking up various toys left behind by their four-year-old son from their living room floor.  A familiar Pokémon plush caught his eye from it’s current seat on their couch, and a smile tugged at his lips; he knew the small boy was lost without it, and probably wouldn’t sleep until it was back in his arms – after all, he’d been the exact same; he supposed he still was, though something else had taken the place of stuffed toys over the years.

Carefully setting down the armful of building-blocks and plastic animals above the toybox, Hinata picked up the plush creature; though dirtied and droopy over the years it was still as soft as it had ever been in his hands, carrying the familiar scent of home along with it. Stifling a yawn he padded down the hall and to his son’s bedroom, where, to no surprise, the boy was wide awake, wide-eyed.

“You left him behind again,” Hinata said, softly, grinning when the dark-haired boy – Ryouta, they’d named him; it was first instinct, first nature when they’d first laid eyes on him, tiny and newborn, in the arms of their chosen surrogate - came rushing over with relief in his eyes, making a grabby motion with his hands until Hinata passed the toy over. “You know what Papa says about taking better care of your things.” There’s no bite to his scolding; he’s too tired, too full of affection, too happy to have this small boy, his small boy, shuffle closer into a warm embrace.

“Um-“ The boy starts, worrying the stuffed toy between his tiny fingers, nuzzling into the fabric of Hinata’s shirt – Hinata’s heart pangs, as it always does with this boy, and he smiles.

“What is it, Ryou-chan?” He asks, softly (he doesn’t miss the way the boy pouts at the nickname) and he draws the soft fringe to the side affectionately, trying to meet those expressive blue eyes he’s only seen in one other person he loves.

Ryouta raises his arms, making like he wants to be held, and Hinata obliges as he always does, standing up straight with his son in his arms. “Is it okay if I sleep with you tonight?” He asks, sleepily, and Hinata nods on instinct, though he’s not sure; Kageyama was working late, he remembers, and would be tired when he gets home, and he knows he’ll be exhausted and too groggy to function. “Until Papa gets home, okay?” He adds, quickly, and Ryouta nods.

Hinata carries the boy to his and Kageyama’s bedroom, just across the hall, and sets him down into the bed before crawling in himself. Ryouta clings to him like a teddy bear, the Pokémon toy nestled between them, and it takes everything Hinata has not to tickle him, to ruffle his hair; they’re both tired, he knows.

It’s not until an hour later when he hears the door slam that he realises he’d fallen asleep, and instinctively, he pulls Ryouta’s sleeping form closer to him protectively, listening carefully for the tell-tale signs that whoever had entered the apartment was who he thought it was. He immediately relaxes when he hears excited barking, following by an exasperated “Shut _up_ , Meat Bun” that gives away their identity.  

He isn’t even done considering carrying Ryouta to his own bed when Kageyama enters the room; it’s too dark to see his face properly but Hinata knows he has bags under his eyes, and can see by his silhouette that he’s slumped over. Patiently he waits for the taller man, waiting through the bathroom door opening and closing and the muffled sound of their shower running past the wall until he hears the bed creak and feels the mattress dip with the weight of another person.

“Kageyama.” He says, teasingly, reaching over to feel for what he can’t see, his palm coming to meet his partner’s jaw. He feels another hand coming to hold his own a few moments later.

“Hinata.” Comes the quiet reply, and he shuffles closer, bringing Ryouta with him into a familiar, welcoming embrace. Kageyama is still cold and slightly damp where he was too lazy and tired to dry himself off properly, but he doesn’t mind, not really.

Their hands find each other again, fingers intertwining between them, resting just above their boy’s side. “Mm. Welcome home, Tobi.”

“’S too late to chat.” He feels Kageyama’s other hand come up from underneath him, pressing into his back and drawing him closer. He hopes Ryouta doesn’t feel too trapped between them. He smiles, regardless.

“Okay.” He’s still smiling when he leans over to meet Kageyama’s lips and catch them in a gentle kiss, and he’s happy to find his partner isn’t so tired that he doesn’t press back just as lovingly. “Goodnight, then. I love you.”

Finally his eyes adjust to the darkness, and he can see Kageyama’s expression, though in shadows and black-and-white with the lack of light. “I love you too, Shou.”

He’s happy to find him smiling, too.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i copied and pasted that title from a lyrics site
> 
> i didnt feel like proofreading so it's a bit messy? rip
> 
> bless [stephy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/talonyth) for naming ryouta (and also their dog long live meat bun)


End file.
